


a picture worth a thousand words

by orphan_account



Series: picture this [1]
Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, M/M, Photographs, slight angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-08
Updated: 2017-08-08
Packaged: 2018-12-12 20:57:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11745051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: By all accounts, it's a very nice picture.Magnus hates it.





	a picture worth a thousand words

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, friends! I had an idea for this series already, but after last night's episode, I really wanted to start it. This takes place between their first date and their date in Tokyo. 
> 
> Also, I was tempted to actually make this be a thousand words, even, but that would mean cutting some stuff and I don't want to, so. But! Here is the thing! I hope you enjoy!

 

The Institute is quieter than usual. Magnus supposes that's because he doesn't tend to visit during the night - before, before Alec, he only ever came here when he was needed (and paid) to reinforce wards, or to assist on missions, or act as a representative for the warlocks of Brooklyn, all of which always happened to be a daytime affair.  But tonight, he isn't here on official business. He's here to pick up Alec for their date.

 

He knocks at Alec's door, once, and waits. For a minute. Then two. Alec is the type of person who always answers right away, so there's really not a point in knocking again, because he's definitely not in there, but Magnus does anyway, just to be sure. He feels a small twinge of annoyance, then tries to push it down. After another moment of waiting, he pulls out his phone to text Alec.

 

_Hey, are you ready?_

 

Alec is the type of person who always answers  _the door_  right away, but he can be terribly slow when it comes to responding to texts, so it's a bit of a surprise to Magnus when the phone in his hand buzzes barely twenty seconds later.

 

_shit_

 

Magnus furrows his brow, suddenly a little worried. Alexander doesn't tend to swear out loud unless something has gone incredibly wrong. He's halfway through asking if Alec's okay when he gets another message.

 

_I'm really sorry, I got held up. Something wrong with the security system. I should be able to leave in a couple of minutes. Is that okay?_

 

It's admittedly not the best news he's heard today, but Magnus understands. After all, they both lead incredibly busy lives, given their respective roles in maintaining peace in the Shadow World. Magnus, himself, has had to postpone at least one date since they officially started their relationship.

 

 _Of course. See you in a few,_  he sends, before placing his phone back in his coat pocket. He contemplates just waiting out in the hall until Alexander is able to meet him, but the Institute has never been his favorite place to linger, and it feels especially unnerving given the silence. Not to mention, he really doesn't want to run into anyone, especially since he knows the few people here besides Alec that he actually  _likes_  (Isabelle, Clary, hell, even Jace) are out on a mission. Tonight is Alec's night off. Well, it's supposed to be, anyway.

 

Still, he feels a little strange when he places his hand on the door handle of Alec's bedroom. Most of their time together, so far, has been spent at Magnus' loft or out exploring the world; not at the Institute. So he's never been inside his room. Seen his personal space. But he doesn't allow himself to feel guilty; this morning, when they were solidifying their plans over the phone, Alec had casually mentioned that if he was late for any reason, Magnus was perfectly welcome to wait in his room. So he has permission. It's fine. It's fine.

 

Magnus can't honestly say what he was expecting Alec's room to look like. He guesses he was probably expecting a lot of black, but truth be told, there's not much in the way of decoration. His bedspread is a sort of dark, midnight blue. The walls are bland and beige, but Magnus doubts that's a personal or stylistic choice; they probably aren't allowed to paint their bedroom walls. There's a mahogany dresser, a bookshelf, and a desk with papers strewn about. The room isn't clean or messy, just very, very lived in. A jacket thrown over the desk chair, the bed not made. The only real decorations, though, are the pictures.

 

He's pretty sure there's a picture of every member of Alec's immediate family in this room. Some of them are displayed on his desk, a few on the wall, and some on his bedside table. There's Izzy, there's Jace. Maryse, Robert. A child that Magnus can only assume is Max. As he's walking, taking it all in, he notices an empty frame, with a price tag still hanging fresh on the side. There's a fluttery, pleasant feeling in his stomach, but he tries not to get his hopes up. 

 

Out of all the pictures, though, there only seems to be one that actually features his boyfriend at all.

 

It's a little bigger than the others, clearly meant to be a professional family portrait. The frame is engraved with sweeping, intricate patterns, and they're all wearing their best clothes, from what he can tell. They stand unified, as a family. Every placement of every hand is intentional, and they all look serious and impeccable. By all accounts, it's a very nice picture.

 

Magnus hates it.

 

Because there, standing tall in the very back, is Alec, one hand placed on Izzy's back and the other on Jace's shoulder. He doesn't look like himself. Or rather... he doesn't look like the version of himself that Magnus has come to know and adore. He looks like he did the day they met, when it wasn't just the two of them. When everyone else was there, too, and he'd closed in on himself. In the picture, he's smiling, but it doesn't look genuine. This is Alec Lightwood, at his unhappiest. A dutiful son gone unappreciated by his parents. An older brother who feels that the happiness and safety of his siblings rests on his shoulders, and his alone. A young and closeted gay man, terrified of being found out. Someone who feels everything so strongly, but has no avenue to let it all out. It's all right there, buried under the surface of that mask of a content expression he bears.

 

Magnus' heart breaks for him. And for himself, too, just a bit.

 

This isn't a picture he wants to keep. He likes having things, photographs and letters and mementos, that he can keep with him to remind him of the important people who have been in his life. Being immortal isn't always a blessing. It means people die, and leave him behind. And no matter how hard he tries to hold on, as the years go by, faces and voices slip away from his memory. But to have something solid and tangible to remember them by - it helps. It's not a perfect solution, but he's yet to find a better one. He has a particular fondness for being able to see and remember the way people looked, but this - he doesn't want this to be the only memory of Alec that he has, a picture of him before they'd ever even met, where he looks utterly miserable. He wants to remember Alec's laugh. He wants to remember the subtle sincerity that shines in his eyes whenever he's looking at Magnus. He wants to remember Alec,  _happy._ And suddenly, he's terrified that he won't.

 

He's a little startled when he hears the door open, drawing him out of his rather bleak train of thought, but manages, nonetheless, to force a smile as he looks Alec’s way. And he wonders how audible his sigh of relief is when their eyes meet.

 

There’s that glint of something soft and sweet in his eyes, and that beautiful, real smile. He’s even holding himself a little taller, no longer trying to cave in on himself for everyone else’s sake. This is the Alec he wants to remember. One version, anyways. Because the truth is, he wants to remember all of him. He doesn’t want to forget a single, insignificant detail, because truth be told, _none_ of them are insignificant. He wants to always have Alexander Lightwood, the beautiful, complex, _full_ person.

 

They have time. They have time to be happy, and there will be time for pictures and letters and mementos as they go. But right now, they have a date to go on.

 

(And if Magnus innocently suggests that they get the waiter to take their picture after dessert, well, who can blame him?)

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading! The next installment of this series (which is /actually/ going to be a series, unlike the other series I started but never finished, but we don't talk about that) is going to feature the photo booth pictures, fear not. Until then, feel free to come shout at me about stuff on tumblr @timelessvevo! Love! < 3
> 
> (Also, the empty photo frame is definitely for Magnus. They're both sentimental dorks.)


End file.
